Vignettes
by chocaholic123
Summary: A collection of flashfics written for the Twilight 25, round 8. Each chapter will between 300 - 500 words in length, based on photo prompts. Each flashfic will be a stand alone story, unrelated to the next. Rated 'M' just in case.
1. Chapter 1

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: #1**

**Pen Name: Chocaholic123**

**Pairing/Character(s): Edward / Bella**

**Rating: R**

**Word Count: 498**

**Photo prompts can be found here: ****thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts**

**A/N: These flashfics are written from photo prompts from the Twilight 25 round 8. To see the pictures please visit www dot thetwilight25 dot com. This is prompt 1. Please note that, according to the rules, each chapter must be unrelated: this is a collection of flashfics, not a story.  
**

**I plan to write daily, with an aim to post around 5 per week. Don't quote me on that though!  
**

**Choc x**

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"Someone will find us soon." Edward turns the car over one more time, but there's no fire-up of the engine, only a clicking sound that cuts through my teeth. "It's not a busy road, but there have been a few cars around."

I pull my sweater tightly around my body. The heater cut out twenty minutes ago and the air has turned cold, white vapor floating from our mouths with every breath. Gentle snowflakes fall past the windows, their cotton-wool perfection floating softly to the ground.

"Still no signal." I throw my cell on the backseat in disgust. It had seemed like such a good idea; accepting a lift from my best friend's brother, sharing the cost of gas so we could watch her in the skating competition. We'd played old CDs on the stereo, discussing our tastes in music, and mocking each other's favorite songs. We'd discovered a shared loved of old movies and the smell of new books. We'd reminisced about the trips we took as kids, never-ending journeys on small roads through smaller towns, crossing railroad tracks and stopping at drugstores for sodas.

It seemed only natural to recreate the past.

I start to shiver, my teeth chattering. When I lick my dry lips I can feel the cracks.

"Remember when Alice fell into the trashcan?" He taps his fingers against the wheel. "All we could see were her legs flailing around."

I smile big, recalling how angry she'd been when he pulled her out. "As I remember it, you threw her in there." She'd hit him so hard, you could see a hand-shaped bruise on his bicep for weeks afterward.

"She deserved it. She flung my Ninja Turtles down the storm drain."

His attempts at distraction work for a while, but the frigid air still creeps through. It freezes me to my bones. I wonder if I'll ever feel warm again. He pulls an old, crocheted blanket from the backseat, and shakes it out. It smells musty and damp like a wet dog.

"Come here." He beckons me over. I scoot across the bench seat, curling my legs beneath me. He tucks the blanket around us, angling our bodies until he's spooning my back. I close my eyes, trying not to smell the stale wool, smiling as his fingers curl around mine.

I'm not sure why I feel so sleepy. I can feel his warm breath against my neck, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. "I miss those days, when we used to chase you and your friends around Summerton Lake. Alice used to get so mad when you ran faster than anyone else."

His lips move against my throat, and my shivers have nothing to do with the cold. "We were such kids. I should have let you catch me."

His teeth scrape my flesh and I try not to moan. He curls his hand around my hip, fingers digging into my jeans.

"Next time I will."


	2. Chapter 2

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: #2**

**Pen Name: Chocaholic123**

**Pairing/Character(s): Bella / Jessica / Edward / Mike**

**Rating: M**

**Word Count: 500**

**Photo prompts can be found here:**

** thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts**

* * *

**A/N: These flashfics are written from photo prompts from the Twilight 25 round 8. None of the flashes are related to any others; each is a stand alone story. This is prompt 2, and is a little sad. **

* * *

"I didn't know you'd been to Paris, Mom." Jessie picks up the snapshot, long fingers smoothing curled edges. I glance down at the faded scene; dove-gray sky dominated by the Eiffel Tower. If you look closely at the foreground, you can see the tiny forms of two people. You might even make out his khaki uniform, or her blue mini-skirt. I know they're there.

"I studied art at the Sorbonne in the Sixties." There's so much I haven't told her about my life. The photographs scattered across the coffee table are a mere drop in the ocean. I try to shield her from truths that cut like a sharp knife.

"Is that where you met Dad?" She lays the picture down, but I can't tear my gaze away. Long forgotten memories crash in my mind. The smell of summer rain, the bitter taste of strong coffee, the sensation of silk-soft skin whispering against mine.

Her question demands so many answers, it hurts my heart.

_Yes._

"No. I met Mike when I came back to Washington."

I was working in a diner when Mike Newton walked in, his hair damp and sweaty from a long day driving a logging truck. We'd talked for hours, my pregnant stomach no deterrent to his appreciative gaze. I'd smiled for the first time in six months.

Two months later, we married. He put his name on her birth certificate and loved her like his own, right up until he died.

"Is that a soldier?" She looks closer, and my heart stops beating.

"That's Edward."

Captain Edward Cullen. A chance meeting in springtime; he had a week's leave from his base in Wiesbaden, Germany. I was laying on the grass sketching the tower, trying to capture the pattern of the ironworks, when a shadow fell over my sketchpad. I looked up, captivated by the way the sun lit up his face and the green depth of his eyes.

An hour later we were tangled in my bed.

"Was he a friend?" Jessie leans back and smoothes her bronze hair from her brow. She looks young despite her forty-five years.

I try to smile. "He was only in Paris for a week. We kept in touch by letter for a couple months." I still have them, rolled up in a secret place. Every word is a balm to my soul.

"Why did you lose touch?"

I bite my lip. "There was a fire on his base. They say he escaped, but went back in to save the others." Tears sting as I recall the long days of waiting and the letter that never came. Sometimes pain that raw can never fade.

"He was a hero." Her green eyes fill with compassion.

I can still feel his lips on mine, the way his hands curled around my behind, as we made love. His fevered touch burned my skin, marking me as surely as a hot brand.

Leaving me with the greatest gift of all.

"Yes, he was."


	3. Chapter 3

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: #3**

**Pen Name: Chocaholic123**

**Pairing/Character(s): Bella / Alice/ Edward /**

**Rating: T**

**Word Count: 500  
**

**Photo prompts can be found here:**

**thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts**

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**A/N - Thank you so much for your lovely reviews. They mean the world to me.**

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"Whatcha doing?" I hear the sound of rubber soles scraping on the dusty road. Turning my head, I see a pair of battered pink converse; one laced with silver, the other with black. They lead up to pale, skinny legs, knees covered with crusty scabs, skin crimson where she's been picking them off.

I don't need to look further to know it`s Alice.

I fling my arm over my eyes to block out the afternoon sun. "Thinking."

"Oh." The squelchy sound of her rhythmic chewing is punctuated by the occasional pause when she attempts to blow a bubble. I've told her before; you can't blow bubbles with chewing gum, but she won't stop trying.

I count silently, waiting for her next question. I only get to six.

"Why are you thinking in the middle of the road? You could get run over and end up with your whole body in plaster." If my lips could remember to smile, I'd let them curl up at my sister's chastisement. She takes shit from nobody, despite only being a fourth grader. Alice is badass.

"It's comfortable." I'm lying. The asphalt is covered with a layer of gravel that digs in my back like a bed of nails. But I don't want to go home and have Mom shout at me, and I'm ignoring Jessica because we had a huge argument about Jasper Whitlock. Apparently, she'd rather spend time with him than her best friend.

Ex-best friend.

The chewing gets closer to my ear. I look round to see Alice lying beside me. I sigh. "What are you doing, Alice?"

She screws her nose up. "This isn't comfortable."

The muscles at the corner of my lip twitch again, but a smile can't break through. I hate my life; my parents despise me, my best friend's ditched me and I have more homework than hours in the day. It sucks being fifteen.

A moment later I feel her sticky hand wrap around mine, squeezing it tightly. I kid myself the moisture pooling in my eyes isn't tears.

We chill for a while, not talking, barely thinking. Alice's gum chewing is vaguely comforting, like hearing waves hit the shore. Moments later, our silence is disturbed by distant shouts, and the clatter of skateboards across the pavement.

"Whatcha doing, Swan?" I can hear the panting of his breath as he gets closer. His knees click when he lowers himself beside us.

"She's thinking." Alice says it like he's a dumbass. This time a smile almost gets through.

Edward lies on my other side, so close his arm brushes mine. He's a senior now, and doesn't hang around with us like he used to, but he's cool. I flex my fingers until they brush his, and he curls his own around them. When I turn to look at him, there's understanding in his eyes.

"It gets better, you know." His lips quirk into a lopsided grin

I smile back and let warmth suffuse my body.

It already did.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: #4**

**Pen Name: Chocaholic123**

**Pairing/Character(s): Edward / Bella / Emmett**

**Rating: R**

**Word Count: 495**

**Photo prompts can be found here:**

**thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts**

* * *

"Cullen's gone." It's the first thing they say when I walk through the door. Emmett lounges on the stage, his black vest stuck to his chest, hair dark with perspiration. The room reeks of sweat, hormones and teenage dreams.

I sigh. "Any ideas?" My head is pounding from weeks on the road. All I want to do is curl up in a bath full of bubbles.

Emmett shrugs. "He was eyeing some girls earlier. We should just leave the fucker behind."

"He's the lead singer. Without him there isn't a tour." My blood sizzles. Cullen frustrates and turns me on in equal measure. He's all long, lean muscles and moody sighs. When he's high, he's on top of the world.

But when he's low … oh man.

I wander to the back of the concert hall, making a mental list of the places I've managed to find him recently.

The bathroom — awkward; particularly for the girls climbing all over his body.

A bar — quite sweet. He bought me a drink and told me I reminded him of Daisy Buchanan.

Unconscious on the edge of the road — frightening. His head was gashed so deep he needed twenty stitches. He swears he can't remember how it happened.

I march into the dressing room and grab my coat, knowing the cold air outside will whip my skin until it stings. Pushing through the stage door, I let it bang closed behind me, and smile awkwardly at the motley collection of girls hanging around, hoping for a glimpse of the band.

They make me feel old.

Although it's dark, the night air glows orange from streetlamps. My eyes adjust to the change and I try to work out where he would have gone. There are too many bars near here to check them all, but I know I won't sleep until I find him.

Then I see it. A small, stone church, squashed in between a bakery and a hotel. London is full of churches like this; their beautifully crafted masonry a balm to the eyes, nestled between Sixties tower blocks and discount stores. I take a chance, pushing open the creaking oak door, smelling that musty, damp smell you only find in churches.

He's sitting on the floor; head in hands, back hunched over like he's carrying the weight of the world on it. When I stride across the flagstone tiles, the clipping of my shoes makes him jolt. He lifts his head to look at me.

I swallow a lump the size of an island when I see the bereft expression on his face. He's crashed, burned and buried himself.

"Hey." I step forward like I'm approaching a rabid dog; carefully, as if he could bite at any moment. Instead he launches himself at me, hugging me tightly, burying his wet face in my hair.

Tomorrow.

We'll sort him out tomorrow.

Until then, I hold him like a child, and tell him it's going to be okay.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: #5**

**Pen Name: Chocaholic123**

**Pairing/Character(s): Bella / Edward**

**Rating: M**

**Word Count: 500**

**Photo prompts can be found here:**

**thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts**

* * *

**A/N: Thank you so, so much for your lovely words and kind reviews. It is so hard to stick to 500 words when I want to write more, and I'm so grateful for you all for reading. Now on to prompt 5, a picture of a guy in a beanie, carrying a girl over his shoulder.**

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"Get in the fucking car." His voice is low and gritty, like an unmade road on a hot day. His Chevy creeps slowly forward, matching my pace.

"Fuck you, Edward." I sound croaky and breathless. It's no surprise; the shock of seeing him again was enough to cause my heart to miss a beat. It's making it up for lost time now, though, hammering in my chest as I try to keep walking.

I glance sideways, noticing the way his tan arm rests on the wound down window, bleached hairs glistening in the sunlight. I can see his tendons taut beneath the skin; muscles and sinews telling me he still works out.

He used to hold me so tight it hurt, his hot breath harsh against my ear as he panted he'd never leave me. His muttered promises would make me fall apart, lose myself in him until I didn't know who I was.

He kept his promise.

I was the one who left.

"Don't make me come and get you." He sounds resigned. I'm no threat to him; my puny body is a blip on his muscled radar. He used to pick me up and push me against the wall, holding my weight with one arm, using the other to unzip his jeans. Back then I'd been as greedy as him, desperate to feel him inside me.

Nothing changes.

"I'm on my way to school." I say it with a big "so there" in my voice. See what I can do, Edward? I can go back to school, take my GED and start a new life without you. "What do you want?"

The engine dies. I keep on walking, my veins thick with adrenaline, the back of my neck slick with sweat. He slams the door but I don't look back, though the way my thighs quiver gives away my nervous anticipation.

"Six months," he rasps. "I've waited six, fucking months."

He's right behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up like soldiers.

"I'm not coming back." My voice wavers. Having him so close makes me want him closer still, needs us joined together.

"I've stopped drinking."

He says the magical words six months too late. Tears prick my eyes. "I can't ..."

His hand is warm on my shoulder. Big and strong, he squeezes enough to let me know he's there.

"Come home."

My response is smothered by the lump in my throat. He stares at me, glassy, green eyes raking over my body. His lips are full, sensual and I want nothing more than to feel them on my neck.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Understanding suffuses his face, his elated expression making him look young and carefree. I barely take a breath before he leans forward and wraps his hands around my waist, hitching me over his shoulder and carrying me to the car. He smells of warm summers and coconuts.

I take a deep breath through dry lips and let him take me home.


	6. Chapter 6

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: #6**

**Pen Name: Chocaholic123**

**Pairing/Character(s): Bella / Edward**

**Rating:M**

**Word Count: 487**

**Photo prompts can be found here:**

**thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts**

* * *

**A/N - So this picture prompt was a stone castle, surrounded by a moat. Apologies for any historical inaccuracies, no research was done.  
**

* * *

"Where the hell is she?"

I cower in the lower pantry, clutching the thick, cotton bodice of my dress. My lips move with a silent prayer, hoping they'll give up on me and search for another servant to fulfill his desires. It smells of dust and rotting meat in here, and the scurrying beneath my feet leaves me in no doubt I'm not totally alone. I'd rather spend the night with rats than tied up to Lord Edward's bed.

"Did you hear something?" The footsteps stop and a low voice penetrates the darkness. I can almost hear the guards' breaths; short and harsh, like they've been running around for hours. Then I hear the steps getting closer, ever closer, and the hammering of my heart drowns everything out, even their roar of victory when they finally open the pantry door.

"She's here." The first guard grabs my arm, his fingers biting into my flesh. Without a word he yanks me out, grinning at the low cut of my dress. I blush at the way he licks his lips.

"Please ..." Fear thickens my words. My feet hardly touch the ground as he drags me from the kitchens, pulling me through the stone corridors until we reach the banqueting hall.

It reeks of testosterone and ale, a day's hunting having brought both out in copious amounts. The lords are rowdy, shouting and laughing, watching the girls dancing for their entertainment. They don't take me in there, though; my duties aren't for public consumption. Whatever Lord Edward has planned is for his enjoyment alone.

He'd noticed me this morning, when I poured water into his wash bowl, his devil-green eyes following my every move. I've heard tales of his depravity, whispers from fellow servants, gossip in the tiny village square. They speak of wanton acts; sinful ones that make girls scream and cry, yet leave his room the following morning with smiles on their faces. Some say he's the devil incarnate.

He bewitches them with a smile.

The guard pulls me to the sleeping quarters, the noise of the banquet left behind us. I start to tremble, my whole body shaking at the thought of what awaits me in the room at the end of the hall, of the man who demands servants to satisfy his lusty needs.

"Go in." I'm finally released, but the burly guard behind me prevents any attempts at retreat. I reach out a tremulous hand, my fear-weakened fingers curling around the handle as I release it and push open the large, oak door.

I step into the darkness. A candle flickers in the corner, illuminating a man sitting in a large, wooden chair, his tunic untied to reveal a smooth, muscled chest. Lord Edward surveys me through half-shut eyes, his lips curled into a lascivious smile that makes my body ache.

"Isabella," he purrs with a honey voice, "You've been a very, very bad girl."


	7. Chapter 7

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: #7**

**Pen Name: Chocaholic123**

**Pairing/Character(s): Bella / Edward / Ben**

**Rating:M**

**Word Count: 489**

**Photo prompts can be found here:**

**thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts**

* * *

**A/N - Another day, another flash. Thank you all so much for your support, you rock my world.**

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I shove my phone into my jean pocket, kicking back on my chair, a smile pulling at my lips as I remember her pleas. It's always the same; she swears she can make it through the night without it, but when darkness falls and she's all alone her pretty fingers tap out my number and her breathy voice begs down the phone for more.

Her desperation turns me on.

Ben glances up as I walk past his desk, "She called?" I raise my eyebrows and give a little nod, trying to ignore him when he mutters, "Lucky bastard." He's always been jealous of the way she phones me, demanding my time, my body, my ability to fulfill her needs. It's no secret I'm her dealer and she craves a fix.

Outside the night is cold and damp. I pull my hood over my hair, clutching my sweater tightly around my chest. My right hand is curled around her drug of choice, knowing its the first thing she'll be looking for when I knock on the door. The path to the house is dark and wooded, the canopy of leaves blocking out any moonlight that manages to penetrate the cloud. It's literally the dead of night, the hour when legends say the goblins and ghouls come out to play. It's my favorite time of day; I take a moment to wonder what that says about me

She's planted flowers around the front of the house, and the fragrance of camellias and baby's breath fight with the cloying fog to invade my senses. The aroma hits me like an eidetic memory, making my body ache and harden just for her.

I don't even have to knock on the door. Like a junkie waiting for a hit, she's pulling it open, her sleep-flooded cheeks stained pink, her breath short and stilted.

"You came." Her lips are dry. The way she moistens them makes me want to devour them. I want her to wrap them around me and suck the dirty right out.

"I always do." I can see her searching my body with her eyes. There's something she's desperate for, something that makes her eyes dark and her expression hopeful.

"Did you bring it?"

I open my hand, reaching out to place the little bag into hers. She tears it greedily, extracting a foil packet, fingers shaking as she unwraps. I watch with a half smile as she shoves the chocolate through her lips. I can't resist reaching out to run my hands over her bump, feeling our child squirming beneath her skin. She shoves another Hershey's Kiss into her mouth and throws herself at me, peppering real kisses over my jaw. I turn my head and suck at her neck, licking and biting until I feel her nipples harden, my fingers digging into the sweet skin of her behind.

"You're carrying my baby. You get whatever you want."


	8. Chapter 8

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**  
**thetwilight25 dot com**  
**Prompt: #8**  
**Pen Name: Chocaholic123**  
**Pairing/Character(s): Bella / Rose / Alice / Edward**  
**Rating:M**  
**Word Count: 500**  
**Photo prompts can be found here:**  
**thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts**

* * *

"Did you know women over forty are more likely to be killed by terrorists than get married?" Rose walks back from the bar and sits on a high stool. "I'm more likely to die of gunshot wounds than walk up a goddamned aisle." Her words are bitter as our drinks are sweet.

"You're thirty two, Rose." Alice shakes her head. "You've eight years before you need to worry about that."

Rose sighs. "I'm going to grow old and ugly and die from sexual frustration." The cute bartender brings over a tray of cocktails. A Mojito for Rose, a Manhattan for Ali, and a Cosmo for me. Rose snatches hers up and knocks it back, slamming the empty glass onto the wood. She's on a one way journey to hangover hell.

"That statistic about terrorists isn't true." I sip my drink. It's sweet, strong and a little bit sticky. "You can look it up on Snopes. And if the worst happens, you can always hope for a little Stockholm Syndrome."

Rose sighs loudly. "I'm telling you, Bella, you should study this stuff. I won't make the same mistakes I made with Royce."

Alice catches my gaze and makes a silly face, rolling her eyes dramatically. I bite down a grin, trying to look interested as Rose launches into another lecture on relationships.

"I should never have agreed to see him on Mondays," she continues. "Statistically, that's the worst day for break ups. That and Valentine's day."

"What happens when Valentine's falls on a Monday?" Alice can barely disguise the humor in her voice. I cough down a laugh, trying to disguise it as a hiccup, and fail miserably.

"Laugh all you want," Rose replies huffily. "But don't come crying to me when you're both old maids."

"I'm seventy-nine percent sure I won't." I stand up and walk over to the bar. I'm unusually happy it's my round; I get a break from Rose and a chance to flirt with the sexy bartender. It's a win-win.

While I wait for service, I take the opportunity to enjoy the silence, reminding myself that Rose isn't normally so bad. She's taken the break up with Royce pretty hard. It's knocked her confidence, and her only way to feel better about things is to analyze them to death.

"What can I get you?" The bartender leans on the counter, eyes twinkling as he gives me a half smile. His cheeks are dimpled, covered with a light layer of stubble and I have to stop myself from reaching out to touch him. I give him our order and he makes it up, mixing our drinks with an expert touch.

"Your friend seems pretty into statistics," he remarks, pushing the tray toward me. "Did you know that nine percent of relationships start at a bar?"

"What about the other ninety-one percent?" I ask.

He leans closer until our faces are inches apart, his proximity making me breathless. "I don't think we need to worry about them.


	9. Chapter 9

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**  
**thetwilight25 dot com**  
**Prompt: #9**  
**Pen Name: Chocaholic123**  
**Pairing/Character(s): Bella / Edward**  
**Rating:M**  
**Word Count: 497**  
**Photo prompts can be found here:**  
**thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts**

* * *

**A/N - Thank you all for your lovely words of support. they make things so much better when inspiration is in short supply. This flash is based on a picture of two hands clasped together. As usual, my mind wandered ...**

* * *

She was sitting in the theater when it happened, that thing she would measure the rest of her life against. It was her watershed; the moment her river started to surge downhill, drowning everything she thought she knew in the process.

She'd been eighteen for exactly three days. The candy-sugar aroma of her favorite vanilla cake still seemed to linger in the air, and her cheeks ached from too many forced smiles. Her daddy looked at her like she was a stranger, a woman stealing the place of his little girl, when he could bear to acknowledge her at all.

_Our Town_ was playing at the Portland Playhouse, the barely-there set recycled from last year's _Crucible_. Their teacher had chosen eight of them from a class of thirty, and there they were, sitting in row G, their coats rolled into fat sausages at their feet, passing crumpled bags of candy along the line.

Somehow she'd ended up next to _him_. She'd once heard the cheerleaders refer to him as 'Sex-Ed', and it wasn't hard to see why. Like every other girl at Forks High, she'd spent hours staring at his perfectly proportioned face, imagining what those full, firm lips would feel like pressed against her own. She hadn't gone as far as her best friend, who had filled every inch of her planner with the words 'Mrs. Jessica Cullen' written in varying degrees of legibility, though she was still a little embarrassed by having such an obvious crush.

But then she'd sat down in the seat beside him and noticed the way he stared at her lips. There was something almost wild in his expression. It was like there was a war waging behind his verdant eyes, and the wrong side was winning.

"Do you remember this bit from our read through?" His breath tickled at her ear, acting like a catalyst to tighten every inch of skin on her body. Bella nodded, barely paying any attention to the action on stage. Her nervous excitement at his proximity was almost too much to bear. She was hyper aware of his warm thigh next to hers, brushing her skirt as he whispered in her ear.

He was silent for a moment. On the stage, George confessed to his mother that he wasn't ready to wed, and Bella remembered their heated discussion about George's motivations in class, and how his eyes had burned in a way that sent heat to the pit of her belly.

"I still think you were wrong." Her confession was a whisper. His lips turned up into a smile that made her heart miss a beat. His thigh moved closer still, enough for her to feel the outline of his thigh muscle through his jeans. Then Mr. Cullen curled his fingers around hers, dragging her hand toward him so the others couldn't see what they were doing. Her blood raced at the illicit nature of his touch, the knowledge that it was totally wrong.

And she let herself drown.


	10. Chapter 10

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**  
**thetwilight25 dot com**  
**Prompt: #10**  
**Pen Name: Chocaholic123**  
**Pairing/Character(s): Bella / Edward**  
**Rating:M**  
**Word Count: 500**  
**Photo prompts can be found here:**  
**thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts**

* * *

**A/N - this flash is based on a picture of a wishing well. As always you can see the photos at the twilight 25 website or in my Facebook group. Thank you all for reading :)**

* * *

It's been years since I was last here. The once bright, red wood has faded to dull pink; paint peeling in patches from the roof of the well. I can remember the way he used to lean over the circle of bricks, dropping pennies down the shaft, counting loudly until we heard the splash echoing up from deep below.

We buried a time capsule here when we were nine. It was an old, rusty cigar tin he'd stolen from his father's shed. I'd placed my favorite hair clip solemnly inside, while Edward laid his most prized baseball card. When he filled the hole with clumps of earth I'd cried, realizing I wouldn't be able to wear the pretty yellow bow in my hair again.

Six years later he'd kissed me in this exact spot. His lips had been gentle and soft, brushing tenderly across my own. He'd cupped the back of my head with his hands and I'd thought heaven must taste a little like Edward Cullen. He'd buried his face in my hair and whispered promises of love and forever we both knew he'd never keep.

The sun peeps out from behind a cloud as I drop to my knees and run my hand along the patchy grass. I close my eyes and try to sense the location of our tin, as if finding it will bring back everything we so easily threw away.

I try not to think about the day I saw him lying on top of Lauren Mallory, and how her dark, cloudy hair splayed across the grass. I'd turned away, running as fast as my thin legs would take me, ignoring his shouts as he tried to chase me down. I cried a thousand tears that day, bitter drops that stung my face and scarred my soul.

I never intended to come back; not to Forks and certainly not here. Burying my father has caused a melancholy that doesn't seem to heal, and as I wandered aimlessly through the streets of my youth, my feet turned toward this place like a compass toward magnetic north.

As I shake a head at my own foolishness, a shadow falls across the patchy ground. I turn to look at him through red, weepy eyes, and marvel at the way age has weathered his face. At thirty, he's grown into his bone structure, the slenderness of youth giving way to an angular, mature beauty. The years drop away and he holds out a hand. I take it, allowing him to pull me up to standing.

"I didn't expect to see you here." His voice is thick, and full of gravel.

"I didn't expect to come." I chuckle wryly at my words. His fingers stay curled around my palm, warming my hand and setting fire to my body.

"I'm glad you did." He smiles for the first time, and my heart takes flight.

"So am I."


	11. Chapter 11

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: #11**

**Pen Name: Chocaholic123**

**Pairing/Character(s): Bella / Rosalie / Alice**

**Rating:M**

**Word Count: 500**

**Photo prompts can be found here:**

**thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts**

* * *

**A/N As always thank you so much for your kind reviews. This photograph was of an old car with girls hanging out of the window, you can find it on my facebook feed, or on the twilight25 website. Thanks for reading!**

* * *

The road stretches ahead, dusty beneath the hot Arizona sun. Above us the sky is a wide expanse of cerulean blue, unmarred by cloud or shadow. I roll down the window, needing the sensation of air against my face to remind me we're really here.

Rose leans her head out of her window, screaming loudly into the deserted highway. The cacti lining the edges of the desert, austere and silent, seem unimpressed by her antics.

"I'm gonna buy me some weed, find me some men and get fucking high!" Alice's words are swallowed up by the wind whipping through the car. "Yee fucking haw."

Rose messes with the radio, eventually settling on sounds of the eighties. "I'm gonna jump on Em. Fuck the fishing, I want to eat me some shark."

"Sounds delightful." I turn the car in the direction of the painted hills. The cabins we booked are about ten miles to the east. Every minute we get closer I feel the nausea in my stomach increase, enough to make me want to hurl.

"You okay?" Alice asks with concern. I nod and give her a tight smile.

I will be okay. I will.

"Then cheer up. In a half hour we'll be kicking back, smoking some dope and drinking ice cold beer, courtesy of the brothers Cullen." The thought makes Rosalie sigh.

And that right there is the problem. It's been weeks since I've seen him; since Edward and Emmett moved to California for a job. Weeks since we'd got high and handsy, and ended up rolling on my bed.

I figure he deserves to be the first to know. And its something I can only tell him face to face.

"Sounds good." I'm lying. Right now nothing sounds good. Apart from maybe a warm bath and a huge bar of chocolate.

Alice rolls her eyes at my lack of enthusiasm and yells at Rose to turn up the music. The Bangles come on and she starts to sing slightly off-key, badly enough to make Rose increase the volume to drown her out.

"Shut the fuck up, Alice," she growls. "You're hurting my ears."

Alice huffs and crosses her arms. My grip on the steering wheel tightens, sickness growing in my belly like the child we made. I don't know if I can do this. I think about how I'm going to tell him what we did and the bile rises in my throat, itching at my gullet.

Rose's phone vibrates with another text, and from the smile on her lips I know its from Emmett. "They've started up the barbecue. Put your foot down, Bella."

The lake appears on the horizon, shining like a diamond in the desert, and I know everything is about to change. I swing the car into the entrance for the cabins, seeing two figures in the distance, lounging on chairs next to a smoking barbecue.

And I know. _I know_, nothing will ever be the same.

That thought about breaks my heart.


	12. Chapter 12

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**  
**thetwilight25 dot com**  
**Prompt: 12**  
**Pen Name: Chocaholic123**  
**Pairing/Character(s): Edward / Bella**  
**Rating:M**  
**Word Count: 497**  
**Photo prompts can be found here:**  
**thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts**

* * *

**A/N - this flash is based on a photo of an empty stairwell, the sort you'd find in a subway (the train station, not a sandwich shop). I've been told it's slightly disturbing. You have been warned! **

* * *

She walks around the corner, her red patent shoes clicking on the floor, hammering out a message that only I can hear. She is hesitant, her movements wary and slow, like she knows I'm watching even though I stand in the shadows. I breathe in deeply, savouring the aroma of her fear. It is rough and sharp, reminding me of snarling teeth and burning fires, and I can feel myself start to respond.

She's so very pretty.

Her dark brown, glossy hair is like a magnet to me. She flicks it over her shoulder with one hand, the other fiddling with her phone in a futile attempt to connect with somebody in the world outside. Her neck is slender and long, with a delicate gold necklace wrapped around her pale flesh and I imagine it covered with thick dark blood, loving the picture that paints in my mind.

The monster that sleeps deep inside my psyche, stirs like a wakening cat, his blood-red eyes slowly revealed as his lids rise up.

I can almost taste her.

A moment later she passes me. Her breath is stilted, like there's something catching in her throat, and I bite down a smile as I watch her beautiful breasts rise and fall. My fingers curl tightly around the handle of my knife.

Saliva pools in my mouth, moistening my tongue, preparing my senses.

I've been waiting for too long.

When she reaches the stairwell, her relieved sigh echoes loudly. She thinks she is safe, that she's made it out of the deserted subway alive. I like that relief, I suck it up in the air between my teeth, my body tingling at the thought of her shock. I really like this one. It's a shame I won't be able to ... keep her.

I move out of the darkness, the harsh yellow lights casting my long shadow across the dirty, tiled floor. Though it takes her a moment to notice it, I can tell when she does. Her shoulders stiffen and her gait slows, though she doesn't turn around. Her legs shake with fear.

It's perfect.

My cock pulses in my pants. I follow her with resonant footsteps, loud enough to make her shiver. This is my favorite part; the calm before the storm, the moment she realizes that she is totally and irrevocably mine. I sense she is a fighter and that excites me more, the frenzy starting to grow in my belly, swirling around my body until it rises up in my throat. It takes over my body, stretching my muscles and energizing my skin and it pushes me forward until I'm a hair's breadth behind her.

She screams and it's a symphony to my ears. I grab her hair and pull it up, exposing the veins that line her neck, bringing my knife up and placing the cool blade on her skin. I bring my lips to her ear, whispering softly as she starts to cry.

"Hello, beautiful."


	13. Chapter 13

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: 13**

**Pen Name: Chocaholic123**

**Pairing/Character(s): Bella / Edward / Jessica / Tyler**

**Rating:M**

**Word Count: 500**

**Photo prompts can be found here:**

**thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts**

* * *

**A/N - This prompt was based on a picture of a girl wearing just a blue sweater, sitting crossed-legged on a bed. I promise it's less disturbing than the last one. Thanks for reading, Choc xx**

* * *

Warm air suffuses my face, painting my cheeks pink, making my lips feel red and dry. In spite of the weather, I can feel a shiver slithering it's way down my spine like a hungry snake. I keep staring at the cards in my hand; a seven and two off-suit. I've watched the game enough times to know this is the worst possible start. I roll my lip between my teeth, digging and scraping until it feels raw and exposed.

Edward sits across the bed from me. I cross my bare legs to try and hide them, aware I'm the most undressed of the four of us. When I finally let my gaze rise up from my hand, his eyes catch mine and it makes my heart pound. His face is hard, unsmiling, his lips a thin line and his eyes hooded and dark. He can't tear them away.

"Are you going to call?" Jessica sounds bored. She's still fully clothed, and for some reason it's making her pissed. Maybe that and the way her boyfriend keeps staring at my legs. She shuffles closer and I see him flinch.

"I'm folding." I place my cards face up on the bed, trying to ignore the way Tyler laughs. Edward remains taciturn, his body as still as his face. I don't like the way he's looking at me. I don't want him to stop.

"Your sweater." He says the two words like he's asking me to pass him a newspaper. I touch it for a moment, feeling the soft blue knit beneath my fingers.

"Come on." Tyler's getting irritated. He leans forward to touch me, to hurry me up. Edward puts a firm arm on his shoulder, stopping him from moving toward me, from being able to grab my top. I look down at my legs again. Everything is just too overwhelming.

"Bella." His voice is low but lyrical, a warning weaved within the words. My fingers start to tremble as I grab at the hem of my sweater. I pull it over my head, letting the wool cover my face as my torso is exposed. Before it's all the way off I hear his soft sigh and it turns my legs to jelly. When I throw my sweater to the side he's the first thing I see, all dark eyes and scowling lips, his chest hitching as he breathes.

My own breath catches, dancing and itching at my throat. I'm two hands away from being naked in front of Edward Cullen and it's scaring the shit out of me.

Jessica says something and he shrugs, gathering the cards together and shuffling, before dealing them expertly. When I pick up the next hand and sigh, I can see him smirk from the corner of my eye. His tongue pokes out to lick at his lips and I just know he can see my shitty cards. He stares at my chest and mouths two words that sets my body on fire.

"Fucking beautiful."


	14. Chapter 14

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: 14**

**Pen Name: Chocaholic123**

**Pairing/Character(s): Bella / Edward**

**Rating:M**

**Word Count: 496**

**Photo prompts can be found here:**

**thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts**

* * *

The record store smells of coffee and dust, the motes dancing in the shaft of light shining through the dirty window, floating like fairies in the air. I flick rapidly through the albums and more dust flies up in a puff of smoke, tickling my throat and making me sneeze.

"Can I help you?" A tall, brown-haired guy walks over to me. Everything about him screams vinyl nerd. I glance to the side and nod my head.

"I'm looking for a Dylan album." I keep flipping, somehow believing I'll see it nestled between the other records.

Record-Store-Boy cocks his head and raises a brow. Somehow he has my full attention. "Oh yeah, which one?"

"Freewheelin' Bob Dylan."

"The original?" His voice raises up a few notes. I don't begin to wonder why.

"Yeah, the one with him and some girl walking down the street." I still have the sleeve; I should have brought it with me. It's the record itself which is no more.

"We don't have that one." He coughs and it turns into a swallow. "I may be able to source one for you. It'll take a few days."

I bite my lip, weighing up my options. If my dad comes home and finds out I've ruined his favorite record, I'm going to be in so much trouble. It's worth taking a flier on this.

"Okay, that sounds good. How much do you think it's going to cost me?" I jam my hand into my jean pocket. I have sixty dollars saved from babysitting last summer. I don't want to spend it all on a stupid, old, record, though.

"About twenty thousand dollars." There's a grin on his face about a mile wide. I want to smash my fist into it.

"What the hell? You've gotta be shitting me."

He shakes his head. "Nope. It's one of the rarest albums around. What do you want it for, anyway?" I can hear the implication in his voice; I don't look like a Dylan fan. And he's right. I'm not even a vinyl fan. If you can't download it, I'm not interested.

"I … ah … had an accident and ruined my dad's record."

His eyes widen with horror. "An accident?"

I lick my lips and take in a breath. "Okay, it was more of an incident. I was watching this show where they put a vinyl disc into the oven and made a bowl out of it. I thought it would be cute." Right up to the moment my sister started yelling.

"You made a bowl out of a twenty thousand dollar album?" His twitching mouth explodes into disbelieving laughter.

"I didn't know it was worth that much." My protest only makes him chuckle harder. He shakes his head, clutching at his sides.

"You're fucking crazy."

I shrug my shoulders. "I know."

He looks up at me through bright green eyes, the smile still dancing around his lips. "So when do I get to take you out?"


	15. Chapter 15

**The Twilight Twenty-Five  
thetwilight25 dot com  
Prompt: 15  
Pen Name: Chocaholic123  
Pairing/Character(s): Bella / Jane / Alice / Edward / Ben  
Rating:M  
Word Count: 496  
Photo prompts can be found here:  
thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts**

* * *

**A/N. Thank you for your lovely reviews. This next prompt is of a mug of hot chocolate, with floating marshmallows. Just my kind of drink ;)**

* * *

"This is Isabella." The social worker passes my bag to the old lady standing on the stoop. They stare at me, concerned, and I want to yell at them. Instead I say nothing, staring down at the wooden porch, looking at the knotted planks and the varnish that's peeling in big, angry flakes.

"I'm Jane. Why don't you come on in, Isabella. You can meet the others." She puts her hand on my arm and it feels like fire. I want to open my mouth and tell them that nobody calls me Isabella, that I shouldn't be here, that my Mom will be back any minute. She'll realize she forgot me, and come back and scoop me up like I'm a misplaced passport or a shrugged off sweater.

They lead me inside and we walk into a dingy lounge, full of mismatching, overstuffed chairs and sullen teenagers. Four pairs of eyes turn to stare at me and I want to cower back, to hide myself away. I'm not like them. I'm not.

"This is Isabella. Isabella, this is Ben, Alice, and Edward."

I let my eyes slide to the side, and see the small, dark haired girl curled up on the corner of the sofa. She's got her phone in her hand, sliding her finger down the screen. "Oh great, another girl." She says it like I'm her least favorite vegetable. She doesn't even bother to meet my eyes.

The boys are playing on the Xbox, fingers moving furiously over their controllers. The dark-haired one shouts out with victory, making the green-eyed one throw his hands up in defeat. "You fucking cheated."

"Language." Jane's voice is firm. She turns to me with a gentle smile. "Would you like to see your room?"

I realize I haven't spoken a word since I got here. I nod my head quickly, and follow her through a narrow corridor and up some squeaking stairs. My room is at the back of the house, little more than a box with a bed and a table. I quickly swallow down the tears that threaten at my eyes.

"I'll leave you to get unpacked. Do you need anything?"

I shake my head and she leaves. I don't bother to open my bag; I'm not staying and it would be pointless to have to repack. Instead, I lie down on the scratchy, cotton comforter, curling my legs up so I'm little more than a ball.

A few minutes later, there's a gentle knock at the door. The green-eyed boy leans around the door. "Hey, are you okay?"

I look at him for a moment then turn away, twisting until I'm facing the wall. I hear the door close gently behind him, and I look back. He's left a mug on my table, full of steaming hot chocolate and heart shaped marshmallows. They remind me of winters sledding on the hills, and my dad throwing snowballs.

I start to sob like I'm never going to stop.


	16. Chapter 16

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: 16**

**Pen Name: Chocaholic123**

**Pairing/Character(s): Bella / Edward**

**Rating:M**

**Word Count: 498**

**Photo prompts can be found here:**

**thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts**

* * *

**A/N - This flash is based on a photograph of a girl studying a map. Thank you for reading :)**

* * *

The call comes through at nine thirty that night. Not from Edward; he doesn't have the time or inclination to make his own telephone arrangements. The gentle tones of his assistant inform me that Mr Cullen would be in town for a few nights, and would like the pleasure of my company.

I lie to myself I'm not going to go. I do that a lot; it's the only way I know how to keep what little self-esteem I have. Because I'll go, like I always do. And I'll come, like I always do. Then he'll leave.

Like he always does.

I'm his foregone conclusion, the puppy that runs up the hallway whenever he opens the front door. He can put love and lust on hold like an irritating phone call, while I keep the receiver glued to my ear; desperate, hoping, longing.

Like the fool I am, I drag my sorry ass down the six flights of stairs to the entrance of my apartment block, climbing into the limo just before ten. A champagne bottle sits opened, bubbles fizzing out of the neck like a dragon's smoke. I turn my head away, watching the orange streetlamps form contrails in the dark night, wondering for the fiftieth time why I do this to myself. I don't get any answers.

His assistant ushers me into the den, closing the door with a gentle click. Edward never waits for me, he's always the one who comes second. In sex this is chivalrous; in life, heartbreaking.

I walk over to the far wall, studying the old map framed against the pale-gold wallpaper. My eyes follow the outline of the continents; Africa, Europe, Asia. He spends time in all three, sometimes more time than he's home. He doesn't talk about his travels; he prefers action to words.

Another click and I sense him enter the room. I don't turn to look; the goosebumps on the back of my neck are enough. Then his arms are around my waist, hands cupping the underside of my breasts.

"You came." His voice is low and it makes me shiver.

I don't reply. He pushes me against the wall, my cheek obliterating Africa. His fingers pull my dress up, my underwear down. They push inside, sliding slickly until my mouth falls open with a gasp. His lips drag down my neck, teeth scraping my shoulder.

"I've missed you." His thumb circles my clit and my legs start to shake. He curls his free hand around my hips, holding me up. "So fucking much."

I hear his zip pulling down, the soft brush of cotton as he pulls himself free. Then he's sliding against me, tip pushing until he's just an inch inside.

I gasp and arch my back, forgetting the lonely nights, the lack of phone calls. I don't think about how this is all going to end. I turn my head, enough to capture his lips with mine and I kiss him until we both burn.


	17. Chapter 17

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: 17**

**Pen Name: Chocaholic123**

**Pairing/Character(s): Bella / Alice / Edward**

**Rating:M**

**Word Count: 497**

**Photo prompts can be found here:**

**thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts**

* * *

**A/N - this is based on a photo prompt of rollerskates. A lot of them. And my Sunday brain can't work out how to describe it. Anyway, thanks again for reading and I hope you enjoy. Choc xoxo**

* * *

"I'm sorry, miss, we're going to have to ask you to leave." The security guard stands over us, his neatly-pressed shirt tucked into a pair of thick, dark trousers that are a size too small. His belt cinches it in, making a huge gully into his belly.

"I can calm her down. Please give me a minute." I lay my hand on Alice's chest, like my mom taught me. She is writhing and screaming on the floor, her face a blotchy, angry red. I try to avoid her roller-skate clad feet, which are kicking and twitching, enough to hurt somebody if they got too near.

"This is a family establishment, miss. She's upsetting the children."

Well, fuck you. Alice might have the body of a twenty-year-old, but her mental capacity is no more than a child. She doesn't understand why she can't skate like a pro after ten minutes on the rink. I know her tantrum will be over in a few minutes, if they just give me a bit of space.

"Please." I say it again, not bothering to qualify it with anything else. My eyes water, though not because everybody is looking at us—after eighteen years of living with Alice, I'm more than used to that. They're angry tears, hot with the fury of a thousand knock-backs. Nobody ever gives her a chance.

"Is there a problem?" Great, now we're attracting a crowd. A tall guy wanders over-the lack of skates on his feet tell me he either works here or is a dad. I hope it's the latter, maybe he'll advocate for my side.

"I've asked her to leave, Mr. Cullen." The guard pushes out his chest, making his shirt gape between tightly closed buttons. "She's refusing."

"Hey, I didn't say that." I can feel Alice calm beneath my touch just as I'm starting to rile. "I asked you to give me a minute."

The tall guy hunkers down, making his jeans tighten around lean, muscled thighs. "Can I help?" He says it softly, like he knows Alice reacts badly to loud noises.

For some reason, his compassion makes me want to weep. I try to swallow down the tears, but they keep falling, winding a burning trail down my cheeks. I lift my hand from Alice's chest and wipe them away.

"She's calming down." The words come out thick, full of emotion. "She just needs a little time."

"I've got plenty of time. Take all you want." The way he says it warms my heart. I feel a stupid urge to hug him, to pull his body toward mine and hold him until tomorrow. Instead I flash him a grateful smile and look back at Alice. She's stopped thrashing, and is staring upward. I recognize that look on her face, the one that is wondering what the hell happened. I see it all too often on my own.

"Thank you." Our eyes meet and he smiles. And the security guard slinks away.


	18. Chapter 18

**The Twilight Twenty-Five  
thetwilight25 dot com  
Prompt: 18  
Pen Name: Chocaholic123  
Pairing/Character(s): Bella / Edward  
Rating:R  
Word Count: 499  
Photo prompts can be found here:  
thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts**

* * *

**Happy Wednesday! This is based on a photo of a couple running in fall leaves. thank you for reading - I really appreciate it. **

* * *

I'm on the phone when I see them, my lips open in mid-sentence, my eyes scrunched in concentration as I struggle to hear my mother's voice. I hang up quickly, citing reception problems, promising to call her back soon.

I stand next to a tree, watching as they run through the burnt umber leaves, kicking and jumping on them. He scoops her up, lifting her high, and she squeals loudly, kicking her chubby little legs with joy. I try not to stare at his arms as his sleeves pull up, revealing vibrant ink and defined tendons.

He pulls her in for a kiss, and I feel my eyes sting with tears. I can still feel the way his lips used to feel against mine, soft yet determined, moving like silk across my skin. He had this way of scraping his teeth along my jaw, right under my ear, until my nerves jangled like a thousand keys.

He puts her back on the ground and her pale-blonde hair falls in her eyes. She lifts a small hand to push it away, revealing a perfect face; button nose, rosebud lips. Her eyes shine like saucers in the fall sun. I want to run over, scoop her up, taste her skin like I'm licking an ice-cream.

"Can't catch me!" She runs off and he chases her in a circle, his legs moving slowly, trying not to catch her too soon. His pursuit of me was similar; an exciting game that left me breathless, panting with desire. When the chase crescendoed it was like white light exploding in my eyes. He eclipses everything he goes near. Just one touch and I turned to dust.

"I've got you," he roars, his hand grasping her shoulder. She squirms out from underneath him, heading straight toward me. I panic, glancing around, finding nowhere to hide. Her hair fans out behind her like a cape, and she's laughing loudly, her pinks cheek, her breath stilted. When she sees me standing there she comes up short, and Edward stumbles behind her, trying not to run her over.

"Mommy?" She tackle-hugs me, and I hold her so tight she squeaks. "Did Daddy ask you to come play?"

I catch Edward's eyes and they soften, his lips curling up into a grin. "I thought you were away this weekend?"

"My plans fell through." I let Nessie go, watching her run off through the trees. "I didn't mean to intrude. I know it's your weekend with her."

He inclines his head and we walk together. "She's been missing you like crazy. Do you want to join us for lunch?" Nessie grabs my hand, pleading with me to join them. She takes Edward's hand as well, dragging us along, begging us to swing her.

Light as a daisy, she flies through the air, and we hold on to her so, so tight. Because we let go of something precious before and it slayed us both. She's the one, perfect thing we have left.


	19. Chapter 19

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: 19**

**Pen Name: Chocaholic123**

**Pairing/Character(s): Bella / Edward**

**Rating: R**

**Word Count: 497**

**Photo prompts can be found here:**

**thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts**

* * *

**A/N - Thank you for all your reviews, I really appreciate them. Only another 6 prompts to go - thank you for sticking with me! This prompt (19) is based on a black and white photograph of a cemetery. Thanks for reading. Choc xoxo**

* * *

He comes to the cemetery just before darkness falls. His gait is slow, his shoulders drooping, over-long hair falling into his eyes. I don't like the way he stares at the gravestone for longer than necessary, his eyes glistening beneath the light of the newly-risen moon. They're glassy and dark, like a one-way mirror.

We both jump as an animal cries through the silent night, its baleful call a reflection of his deep melancholy. His lips move in a silent prayer, as if he's begging for forgiveness. A pang of jealousy shrouds my shoulders as I watch him staring at the pale marble stone, the single rose clasped in his fingers dropping down, bouncing on the grey-green grass. He lifts his ring finger to his lips, sucking at his flesh, and I can almost smell the blood that must be beading there. I start to wonder if, like sleeping beauty, the prick of a needle will send him to sleep for a hundred years. Sometimes I wish it would.

I don't miss the glint of his wedding ring as he pulls his hand away from his mouth. It reflects the now-fully risen moon, the light bouncing away from his palm like a freshly cast spell. I linger behind the trees, not letting him see me. I know he'd hate for me to see him this vulnerable; for me to know he still mourns like the accident was only yesterday. I think of the times I've begged him to move on, to let go of memories that seem to lock his heart away as if it's some precious jewel. A cold, hard stone that he can no longer share. I've felt the effects of his hardness, seen the mean way he sets his mouth. It breaks me to know he buried the best part of him with the casket that he helped lower into the earth.

Another screech and his head whips around. I step back farther, though from the way his face lights up, I know he must have seen me.

"Bella?" There's a ribbon of hope wrapped around his voice. "Is that you?"

I feel the tears prick at my eyes, stinging them. I shake my head in a silent denial.

Then he moves, slowly at first, gathering speed as he almost runs toward the copse of trees I'm hiding in. Part of me wants to sing for joy, to open up my hands and bury him inside me until we both forget where he ends and I begin. He stops suddenly, dropping to his knees, burying his head in his hands. His shoulders shake. The keening noises escaping from his lips break my heart clean in two.

"I miss you. I fucking miss you. Every single day." Though his words are muffled by his hands, I hear them as clear as glass. And they shatter me.

"I miss you too." I don't need to whisper because he cannot hear me. I know he never will.


	20. Chapter 20

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: 20**

**Pen Name: Chocaholic123**

**Pairing/Character(s): Bella / Edward **

**Rating: M**

**Word Count: 500**

**Photo prompts can be found here:**

**thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts**

* * *

**A/N - thank you for the lovely reviews. Hopefully this one isn't quite so depressing. Thank you for reading 3**

* * *

I walk past the bedroom, a little smile tugging at my lips as I hear their giggling. Lily has made a fort out of her bedcovers, and she and her best friend, Ella have climbed inside. A torch lights up their hidey-hole from the inside out, casting strange shadows on the sheets, their silhouettes looking long and tall.

"What's a fur cot?" I hear Ella whisper in her sugar-sweet voice. I lean on the door jamb, knowing I shouldn't be listening in. But they're so damn cute and they make me smile. After a long day at work, the two of them are as refreshing as a mountain stream.

"I don't know." My daughter's voice has a frown written inside it. She doesn't like not knowing things. She seems to think she's the one in charge around here. "Is it something babies sleep in?"

There's a scrabbling sound as they both try and get comfortable in their fort. I hear the ripping of a wrapper and can imagine them sharing out their hard-won chocolate.

"My dad says your mom is a fur cot." Ella says it so matter of factly. I find myself folding my arms across my chest. What the hell is a fur cot? I can't even begin to imagine. "He told my Uncle Emmett. He said, 'Ella is going over to play at her friend Lily's house and her mom is fur cot.'"

A flush starts to steal over my body, warming my skin and reddening my cheeks. I suddenly realize exactly what fur cot means. I can only assume Ella's father never meant for her to hear it. My heart starts to hammer against my chest, as I realize that somebody out there thinks I'm fuck hot. It's been way too long since anybody has seen me as anything other than a co-worker or a mom. I like it more than I can even say. For too long I've been Bella Swan, serious mom, top worker, the girl who you can always rely on. Since Lily's father left four years ago, nobody has really looked at me as a potential date.

I'm still flushed the next morning when Ella's dad arrives to pick her up. He raps at the door with his knuckles, his lithe body leaning against the wall when I open the door. When he sees me, a slow, sexy smile pulls at his lips, lighting up his face, speeding up my heart.

"Hey."

"Hi." I find myself grinning back.

"How were they? Did Ella behave?" His bare arms are folded across his chest. I can see the dark curls of a tattoo disappearing into his sleeve.

"They were perfectly behaved." I bite my lip to stop myself blushing. Edward Cullen has been the talk of the playground. A sexy dad who's single-handedly raising his daughter is like gold dust around these parts. "Would you like a coffee?"

His smile is big enough to light up the whole of the city. "Coffee sounds great."


	21. Chapter 21

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**  
**thetwilight25 dot com**  
**Prompt: 21**  
**Pen Name: Chocaholic123**  
**Pairing/Character(s): Bella / Edward / Rosalie / Emmett / Mike**  
**Rating: M**  
**Word Count: 487**  
**Photo prompts can be found here:**  
**thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts**

* * *

**A/N I can't believe we've hit 21 already. Only another 4 to go. Have a great weekend. Choc xx**

* * *

"He's looking at you again," Rose says with a sing-song voice and I roll over on my sun lounger, shielding my eyes from the glare of the sun.

"He's just got bad eyesight," I reply, rolling my eyes as Mike Newton turns on his high lifeguard seat, his abdomen way too bronzed for this early in the summer. "I'm not interested. He knows that." He should do, I've told him way too many times. His parents are friends with mine, and everybody assumes we're a foregone conclusion. Including Mike.

"You could do worse," Rose muses, fluttering her eyelids as Emmett McCarty strides into view, his speedos way too tight for a man that size. "I mean, he's into you."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes, turning back onto my side so I can stare out of the club. On the other side of the road there's a construction site, and I've been fascinated by the way they carry the bricks, their muscles taut and built from hard labor. Compared to their masculine physiques, the boys around the pool look almost feminine. Apart from Emmett, that is. Because he's pretty much a monster.

"What are you looking at?"

"Nothing." My guilty reply comes out a bit too fast. Rose knows all my tells, she can detect the difference between a truth and a lie better than any machine.

"Liar. Come on, what's so fascinating about ..." Her voice trails off as he comes into view. His jeans are slung low across his hips, covered with a utility belt full of tools. It's been so hot these past few days that he's working with his top off, revealing a body rippled with muscle and etched with ink. We watch, open-mouthed, as he picks up a hod full of bricks, making the muscles in his back contract. I sigh loudly.

"Oh, wow." Rose looks like she's drooling. All thoughts of swim instructors and lifeguards have flown out of our minds. "That's hot."

"I saw him first," I murmur. I've stared at him every day for the past week. A couple of times he's stopped and looked over at the pool. I kid myself he's staring at me.

"It doesn't matter. Your parents would kill you if you hooked up with a guy like that."

I don't need to tell her that her folks would, too. Because a man that hot would never fit in at the country club. I can't even imagine what the venerable Charles Swan would say if I walked into the restaurant with hottie construction guy on my arm.

"I don't care." I'm so sick of the rules, of being told what I can't do. "I'm going over to say hi." I grab my shorts and wiggle into them.

"You can't."

I catch his eye again, and I swear he's smiling right at me. "Oh yes I can. Watch me."


	22. Chapter 22

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**  
**thetwilight25 dot com**  
**Prompt: 22**  
**Pen Name: Chocaholic123**  
**Pairing/Character(s): Bella / Edward **  
**Rating: M**  
**Word Count: 488**  
**Photo prompts can be found here:**  
**thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts**

* * *

"It's around here somewhere," I say, twisting the map until I have it the right way up. I don't tell him I've been navigating the wrong way for the past twenty minutes. His irritation with me has already hit an all-time high. "Quick, take that turning."

He sighs loudly, his breath full of rolling eyes and recriminations. I choose to ignore it, staring out of the window at the canopy of trees overhead. When we come to a stop at the end of the drive, we climb out, slamming doors and crunching our way across the gravel path. He couldn't be angrier if he tried. He's as stiff as a board as we stand in front of the doorway. "How late are we?"

This time it's me that sighs. "About half an hour." We can't even stand to look at each other. I ask myself, yet again, why the hell we're still trying to make this work. It's only my stubbornness and his ambition that's keeping us hanging by a thread. Any other couple would have given up years ago.

The door opens and a doorman bids us to walk inside. As a maid takes our coats, he whispers from the side of his mouth, "Just don't do anything to embarrass me." My blood starts to boil as we walk into the reception room. I grab a cocktail from a passing waiter, knocking it back before he's barely had time to move away.

"Bella!" Even his voice pisses me off. I can't breathe without making him angry. I try to bite back the bitter tears as I meet his furious gaze. His dark-brown eyes are narrow and fierce. So this is how it ends. Not with a bang, not with a huge argument. Just days and months and years of angry little disputes that make me want to scream.

I lean against the wall as he works the room. An affable grin is painted across his lips as he shakes hands and kisses cheeks. I notice his blonde chief of staff gazing up at him through adoring eyes. Not for the first time, I wonder if they're having an affair. I can't even bring myself to care.

"You look like you're enjoying this as much as I am," a bored voice beside me says. I turn to look at the tall man standing next to me, his fingers curled around a beer bottle. He has the greenest eyes I've ever seen.

"I'm not really into politics," I reply dryly.

"I hear the candidate's an ass."

I look over at Jake. He's laughing uproariously at something blondie has said. "He is," I agree. "What about you? Why are you here?"

Tall-green-perfection rolls his eyes. "My wife's his chief of staff."

I say nothing, just take another cocktail and knock it back.

"I'm Edward Cullen, by the way."

He offers his hand, and I take it. "I'm Bella. Bella Black."


	23. Chapter 23

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**  
**thetwilight25 dot com**  
**Prompt: 23**  
**Pen Name: Chocaholic123**  
**Pairing/Character(s): Bella / Edward **  
**Rating: M**  
**Word Count: 496**  
**Photo prompts can be found here:**  
**thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts**

* * *

**I know, I know. Two flashes in one night. I've been sitting in front of X factor and my fingers got twitchy. Only two left to go. They'll both be posted tomorrow. Thanks for reading and have a great weekend. Choc xoxo**

* * *

"Bella, get down from there," Alice shouts. I look over my shoulder to see her leaning out of the window. I try to balance my bare feet on the apex of the roof. Just a couple of steps forward and I'll be able to grab Mittens. He's been stuck up here for the last hour, and I can't bear to hear his tiny cries any more. From my vantage point, I can see he's got his white paw caught on a tile. His fur is matted with blood.

"I've almost got him," I reply.

"That's it. I'm calling the fire station."

"No!" I glance down at my inappropriate attire. I'm not exactly dressed for company. "I'm only wearing lingerie."

Alice starts to laugh. "It's too late. I already did it."

"Jesus Christ, Alice." She knows I don't want them coming out. The last time the truck turned up at our house I'd managed to burn the kitchen down trying to make some toast. The fire chief spent more time laughing at me than he did putting the goddamned fire out.

The kitten mewls loudly and I crawl the remaining distance to get him. His paw is all cut up. I try not to cry as I gently coax him free. As soon as I do, he runs away, heading to the end of the roof and jumping down to the balcony below.

That's when I make the mistake of looking down. And Oh My God there's a huge drop to the ground. My legs start to tremble beneath me and I have to sit down. "Alice?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I'm stuck."

She starts to reply but her voice is drowned out by sirens. The fire truck turns into our driveway, lights flashing bright blue. I watch with heavy shoulders as they all clamber out. They're wearing their heavy jackets, with yellow helmets covering their heads. All ten of them stare up at me. I can see the fire chief's lips starting to twitch.

"What are you doing up there, Bella?" He asks it like I'm taking a walk in the park. He gives a little shake of his head.

"Just enjoying the sunrise."

He walks to the truck and pulls out the ladder. A few moments later, he is climbing up. He comes to a stop beside me, taking a seat a few feet away. "Is it pretty?"

"What?"

"The sunrise."

I blush at my own lie. "Ah, yeah. It's great."

"Have you ever thought about just watching it out of the window?" He smirks. Taking his hat off, he runs a hand through his thick, bronze hair.

"It's not the same."

"You like your toast very well done, you're an adrenaline junkie. Is there anything else I should know about you?"

I raise my brows. "I have an allergy to sarcasm?"

The chief starts to laugh. "Do you have a lot of allergies?"

"No."

"That's good."

"Why?" I turn to look at him. Amusement dances across his annoyingly handsome face.

"Because I want to cook you dinner."


	24. Chapter 24

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**  
**thetwilight25 dot com**  
**Prompt: 24**  
**Pen Name: Chocaholic123**  
**Pairing/Character(s): Bella / Edward **  
**Rating: M**  
**Word Count: 498**  
**Photo prompts can be found here:**  
**thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts**

* * *

**A/N - This is the penultimate flash. It is based on a photograph of a girl wading, ankle-deep, in water. The final flash will be up later, and then I'll hit the complete button. Thanks for taking this journey with me. **

* * *

"Hey, Bella, wait up!"

I don't turn around, I want to get to the levee. My feet are raw and aching from wearing my sunday shoes. I waste no time in taking them off, feeling the soft sand as it oozes between my toes, carrying my mary-janes in my right hand.

"Leave me alone, Edward Cullen," I shout. "My daddy always said you were trouble."

He carries on running toward me. His clothes are covered in car grease. Long, dark, streaks mark his face. The Cullen boys seem to spend more time under a hood than at school. My father says it won't be long before all three of them end up at juvie.

"I just want to talk to you." He's breathing heavily when he catches up with me. I ignore him and start to wade into the warm, still water.

"There's nothing to talk about." I turn to see him sitting on the sand, frantically pulling his shoes off. "I told you we were over."

"You gonna believe the gossips over me?"

I kick at the water, spraying droplets all around me. He's wading out, his jeans rolled just above his knees. His legs are tan and toned, covered with a dusting of brown hair.

"Why would they lie?" I whip my head around to look at him. "You told them we hit third base."

"I didn't," he protests. "I wouldn't lie about you. About us."

"There is no us."

"What about prom?" He runs a hand through his hair. It falls over his brow. "You said you'd go with me."

I shake my head and kick at the water again. This time the spray hits his clothes. I watch, horrified, as his jeans are drenched. "Oh god, I'm so ..."

He makes a grab for me, pulling me down until my whole body hits the shallow water. My pretty, pink sundress is soaked. It clings to my body, revealing slender thighs and budding breasts. I don't even know what to hide first. Instead I reach for him, pushing him down, too, trying to grab his hair to get it wet.

"Mind the hair!" He grabs my wrists, pulling me toward him. He's lying in two feet of water with me on top of him, our drenched bodies pressed together. That's when I feel it. When I feel him. A blush steals across my cheeks. I don't move away, I just stare at him. His eyes darken as he looks back at me. He raises his head, placing the sweetest kiss on my lips. He tastes of cherry cola and tobacco.

I can't ignore the desire shooting up my body. Instead I kiss him back, rocking my hips against him, trailing my hands up the side of his shirt. He gasps against my lips. "I didn't lie."

"I know," I whisper. I rock again.

"Are you my girl?" His lips move across my neck. I close my eyes and surrender to the sensation.

"I always will be."


	25. Chapter 25

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**  
**thetwilight25 dot com**  
**Prompt: 25**  
**Pen Name: Chocaholic123**  
**Pairing/Character(s): Bella / Edward **  
**Rating: M**  
**Word Count: 495**  
**Photo prompts can be found here:**  
**thetwilight25 dot com/round-eight/prompts**

* * *

**This one is based on a photograph of a guitarist sitting on train tracks, and is my final flash for the Twilight 25. For those of you that can bear it, there's a hugely long author's note at the end. **

* * *

"Do you know when the next train is due?" The girl is breathless; her chest is heaving up and down. I stop strumming my guitar and look up at her. My eyes are drawn to her feet; she's wearing odd socks. For some reason I can't take my eyes off them.

"The next one's cancelled," I tell her. "They say there'll be one in about three hours."

"Three hours?" Her eyes widen. "Damn."

"In a hurry to get somewhere?" I feel my lips twitch. I've been sitting on this bench since this morning. Two months of playing in hell-hole dives and dingy bars has made me yearn for fresh air. I don't mind the wait at all.

"I just like to watch 'em." She waves at the iron tracks. Her nails are bitten and short, black polish peeling from the surface. "I pretend I'm gonna get on them and run away somewhere."

She sits down next to me, crossing her leg over her knee. I notice they're grubby and scabbed. "You play that thing?"

"The guitar?"

"Uh, yeah."

I run my fingers down the strings. "A bit."

Tipping her head to the side, she starts to scrutinize me. "You aren't from around here, are you?"

"How can you tell?"

"You don't have that desperate look like the rest of us."

"Desperate?"

"Ya know, desperate to get the hell out of here." She gestures at the farmland beyond the station. "I can't wait to leave. Just as soon as I hear back from one of those agents I've written to, I'm on the first train out."

I frown. "What kind of agents?"

"I want to be an actress."

"Really?"

"Hell, yeah. It beats working on the farm." She screws her nose up. "I swear I smell of pig."

I start to laugh. "There's worse things, you know."

She puts her hands on her hips and shakes her head. "Nothing worse than stinking of bacon."

My smile threatens to burst out and I bite it down. There's something sweet about this girl. She's feisty, forward with a pretty face to match. "I happen to like bacon."

"You wouldn't if you had to clear the pigs out day in, day out." Her shoulders droop. "Where are you going, anyway?"

"I'm from New York."

Her eyes widen. "For real?"

I nod. She leans toward me. "What's it like there? Have you ever been to Broadway?"

"I've seen a few plays."

A man steps onto the platform, scanning up and down. Spotting the two of us, he strides over, an angry look on his face. "Bella Marie, you get your heinie back home right now. Your brother needs help with the pigs."

"Already?" She sighs and stands up. Flashing me a wink, she follows him back up the platform, wriggling her hips so her skirt sways.

As soon as she's gone, I pick up my guitar, strumming chords and singing softly. I'm still thinking about her when the train arrives.

* * *

**LONG ASS A/N **

** So this is it, the end has come. When I first started writing these flashes, I thought they would be easy. Then inspiration dried up, and sometimes I was grasping around desperately for ideas. Some worked better than others, and some were received better than others. That's all good. Hopefully it's given a little insight into how my brain works. I have these sorts of flickers most days - all the 'what ifs' ... what if Bella got stuck up a tree, what if Edward played in a band but suffered from deep depression, what if I wrote a medieval story ... Most of these things get consigned in my mind to the 'do not bother' pile, but this time I got to share them with the whole world.**

**There's a few people I need to thank. GemmaH for being my writing buddy and for putting lovely comments on my docs. We both finished our flashes today - if you haven't read hers yet, go take a look now. Google gemmah fanfic - she'll be there.**

**I'd also like to thank SparrowNotes for making me sign up, even though I may have been under the influence at the time. I love you, sweets.**

**To the organizers of the Twilight 25. Nobody ever sees the amount of effort it takes to arrange things like this, but I know just the sourcing of the photographs, the writing of the blog, the listing of the names ... that all gives somebody a lot of work to do. Thank you, I appreciate it.**

**Finally, to you-readers and reviewers. I can never say enough times how much I appreciate your support. I love getting reviews (meh, who doesn't?) but I also appreciate those of you who just read and close. Because I used to be a reader to (still am, sometimes), and I rarely reviewed. It didn't mean I didn't appreciate the work, though. But ... yeah ... still feel free to review lol.**

**That's about it. I told you it would be long (probably longer than the flash, to be honest.) But I want you all to know I heart you very much. **

**Choc xoxo**


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